


The Bear and His Crown of Leaves

by Piratess_of_Tortuga



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins - Awakening
Genre: Amaranthine, F/M, Tags to be added, Vigil's Keep, WIP, childhood crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-03-16 19:07:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13642599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Piratess_of_Tortuga/pseuds/Piratess_of_Tortuga
Summary: When the new Commander of the Grey was told that there was a thief waiting for her judgement, she certainly didn't expect that person to be find her childhood crush. Despite the years between the present and the day they last met, she remembers vividly how she watched him train in the courtyard with her brother. Question is, does he remember her?





	1. The dungeon of Vigil's Keep

**Author's Note:**

> After a DAO: Awakening playthrough, I just couldn't resist. :D <3

A shadowy figure glided over the dungeon's stone floor with the quiet grace of a ghost. The new Warden-Commander was a woman trained in the arts of silence, poison, and daggers. Thus, she presumed she could advance towards the cell unnoticed **.** Branna stopped by the wall to examine the features of the prisoner. He was staring at the floor as if to dispel any suspicion – and that was exactly what he managed to do.

                      When the commander let her focus slip momentarily, the silence of the dungeon was broken by a low, gravelly voice.

”So, the infamous Commander of the Grey prefers to hide in the shadows rather than show her face?” the prisoner sneered darkly.

Branna flinched as if woken from a dream, but she got hold of herself very quickly **.** She took a step forward and leaned on her right hip, looking as calm and confident as ever.

”Big words from a prisoner, don't you think?” she asked, her voice like velvet.

”Mockery?” the man put little effort into sounding surprised, ”wouldn't expect any less from the leader of thieves and murderers.”

”Wouldn't you know”, Branna spoke slowly, stepping into the light of the torches, ”Nathaniel Howe?”

                      Confusion washed over the prisoner's face **.** How did she know who he was? Branna watched him frown as he fought to remember her. She swept a stray hair behind her left ear and smirked to herself.

”I should have guessed you wouldn't remember me”, the commander stated, ”I was only ten years old when you were already practising swordplay with my brother in Highever.”

”'Highever'?” the Howe repeated, ”then you are...”

”The other of the two remaining Couslands.”

                      Nathaniel's face dropped, and he sprung up from the floor to grab the bars which separated him from the commander. He rested his chin on the cold iron while he stared deeply into her gleaming jade green eyes.

”Branna?”

The young Cousland gave him a small, though somewhat cold, smile **–** the kind she had learned to give all men since her talk with Wynne. Nathaniel, however, was too distracted to notice the coolness of her gesture.

” _You_ are the Warden-Commander?” But... How...?” his thoughts conflicted as he hurled himself off the bars, ”no, _no_! That won't change anything!”

”Change what, I wonder?” Branna inquired, walking closer to his cell, ”why did you come here?”

”I came here to – to...”, Nathaniel stopped and sighed, ”does it matter? Just let me collect some of my family's belongings and be on my way!”

                      Branna gave a laugh and shook her head. She knew why Rendon Howe's eldest had come to seek her out **,** wasn't it obvious? Nathaniel had always looked up to his father, even if the feeling of respect wasn’t mutual. It had been sad to see how Rendon had treated his older son, and Branna felt sorry that he hadn't been the same as her father, kind and loving. Perhaps it was a trait to be respected, staying true to one's family and legacy, though in Nathaniel's case it was just blind loyalty. That loyalty had led to anger by which the Howe was now tormented, but something stayed his tongue.

 

Perhaps he remembered her better than she had thought.

 

Minutes passed as Nathaniel circled in his cell like a caged bear. Branna watched as his emotions continued to clash inside him.

”You don't have to lie to me”, she tried to soothe him, leaning against the bars, ”you wanted to avenge the fate of your father. Despite everything he did, it's understandable.”

Nathaniel turned around and rushed to her, growling.

”Not just my father, ”he reached to grab her by the throat, ”the Howes are pariahs now, all because of _you_!”

Branna stared calmly at her childhood crush, ignoring the palm placed on her unprotected skin. His arm shook as he answered her gaze, but he didn't try to choke her.

”And I wouldn't be here had your father succeeded in his plan to wipe out all the Couslands”, the commander stated, causing the Howe to lower his gaze briefly in shame.

”What he may have done shouldn't affect us all”, he growled in frustration before he let go of her, ”but you're the hero, right? You won a war and got all the spoils.”

It was Branna's turn to avert her gaze.

”I did what had to be done. I'm sorry how it affected your family.”

”And now my fate lies in your hands as well. Ironic, isn't it?” Nathaniel scorned and turned his back on the commander, but her words soon made him turn around again.

”You’re free to go.”

                      The former noble walked incredulously out of his cell after Branna opened its door **.** The flames of the torches highlighted the sharp features of his face when he stopped to look at her.

”Why... Why are you letting me go?” his anger dissolved yet again, only to turn into surprise and questions.  

”I've no reason to do you any further harm”, the commander told him, ”you may take what you want from the keep and be on your way.”

”But if you let me go, you won't be safe, you realise that?” Nathaniel tried to reason with her, ”your soldiers might not catch me in time if I return.”

Branna was not ready to change her mind.

”That's a risk I'm willing to take.”

 

True to her word, the commander let the prisoner leave the keep in peace, much to the surprise of the seneschal and others.

_Let them wonder_ , Branna thought as she watched Nathaniel walk down the path leading away from his former family home. 

When he stopped to glance over his shoulder once more, Branna felt sad **,** but she steeled her heart. It would be plain silly from her to let herself be moved by the memories of her childhood. She had already turned down the advancements of Alistair and Zevran when they had still travelled together, why should she try to get involved with someone now? Branna had seen the reason in Wynne's advice to stay away from relationships to avoid hurting anyone's feelings **,** and now wasn't the time to begin to think otherwise **.** She was the Commander of the Grey, after all, a woman who would lead a rather short life only to disappear into the Deep Roads and be ripped apart by some ravaging ogre. It would be selfish to lead someone to believe that they could have something together.

 

Thus, until she would hear the Calling, Branna Cousland would stay vigilant, victorious, and untouched by any chaining emotion. Even if she was a Cousland, first and foremost she was what she was now: the Commander of the Grey.


	2. The streets of Amaranthine

After the first chaotic days spent at the keep, Branna Cousland travelled to the capital of her arling **.** She didn't go alone, of course, for she had two other wardens with her: her friend Oghren who had volunteered to join the order, and a recently conscripted mage called Anders. The latter had been on the run from the Templars before his joining, but he seemed like a decent man, jolly and charming. Oghren, on the other hand, was.... well, family life hadn’t changed him one bit. He still belched, told crude jokes, and kept his flagon always close at hand. Even so **,** Branna would trust him with her life – at least when someone wasn't offering him a keg of ale in exchange for it.

 

Despite having capable fighters with her, the commander knew that they should look for recruits while travelling around. With the new, sapient forms of darkspawn the order was facing, every new member would be direly needed.

 

What better place to start looking than the very centre of the arling?

 

***

 

Upon arriving in Amaranthine **,** the Warden-Commander had been informed about smugglers and thieves who were pestering the city. She had promised to investigate the matter immediately, and thus she was leading her small party towards the market where she suspected to find some clues **.** After descending the stairs and taking a look around city’s lower area, however **,** Branna froze. She distinctly realised how Anders’ face appeared before her.

”Commander, are you alright?” she heard the mage ask, but she didn’t react to it otherwise for her gaze was fixed at the nearby stall.

_Is that really...?_ the commander wondered while she took rigid, slow steps forward as if suffering from the spell of petrification **.**

 ”Delilah?”

                      A plainly dressed woman with short, dark hair turned around to see who had called out to her.

”Black hair... and that crest”, she mumbled to herself and frowned **,** ” _Branna?”_

”It's me, my friend”, the young Cousland confirmed with a smile.

Delilah ran to hug her as if she had been her long-lost grandfather.

”It's so good to see you!”

”You too. I wouldn't have expected to find you here.”

Delilah appeared solemn when she lowered her hands and took a step away from the commander.

”The Howes belong to Amaranthine, even if we don't hold the arling anymore.”

Branna felt a clench of guilt after realising the unintentional harm she had done to her childhood friend.

”I'm sorry you lost your status”, she lamented, ”and your father.”

”Don't be”, Delilah told her, ”my father deserved his fate. What he did to your family... The man was a monster.”

                      Brought up by painful memories, sorrow tried to surface within Branna’s mind, but she suppressed it and managed an uneasy smile instead. 

”Your life has been more pleasant since then, I hope?” she tried to change the subject **.**

”Actually, yes”, Delilah cheered up noticeably, ”after I came here, I met Albert.”

”Oh?” Branna smirked like a teenage girl, ”who's he?”

”He's a shopkeeper here in Amaranthine. We’re expecting our first child.”

The commander's smirk turned into a genuine, warm smile.

”I'm happy for you.”

”And what about you?” Delilah inquired, ”you're the new Warden-Commander, are you not?”

”Well, you know me”, Branna shrugged, ”these kinds of things seem to happen to me too often.”

**”** So I’ve learned **”,** her friend laughed, “like those times you stole pastries from the kitchen. Fran was furious!”

”Oh?” Anders suddenly cut in, ”so our commander hasn't always been the decent noble girl she lets on?”

                      The mage’s jest brought a slight blush to Branna’s face. She coughed once and glanced scoldingly at the recruit.

”Yes, well... That isn’t a topic for discussion”, she stated.

Delilah didn't seem to have paid much attention to Anders' words for she stared at her childhood friend with her face beaming.

”You will join me and Albert for lunch, won't you?” she enthused, ”we have so much catching up to do!”

Branna glanced over her shoulder at Anders and Oghren.

”I'd love to, but we have work to do”, she then told her friend, “perhaps another time?”

”Don't worry about your friends, there's enough stew for everyone, and I'm sure Albert won't mind.”

”If there's ale on the table, I'm in”, Oghren was quick to voice his opinion.

The young Cousland didn't get another chance to object.

”Come, then”, Delilah urged the group, ”I'll set more places to the table.”

 

Branna gave a laugh as her stomach grumbled. Maybe lunch wouldn't be so bad idea after all.

 

***

 

By afternoon the small group of Grey Wardens stepped out of the local tavern. They had found traces of the missing warden about whom Branna had heard from Varel. It seemed that the man in question, Kristoff, had ventured to the Black Marsh in his quest to track down one of the talking darkspawn. The commander decided that they should search for him because she wasn't willing to abandon a fellow warden like that. If the members of the order didn't stick together, then who would help them in their own times of need? Besides, from what Branna had heard, the Black Marsh was cursed, and the inhabitants who had once lived there had vanished without a trace.

 

Apparently, there was be more to the mystery than she had initially thought.

 

Before leaving Amaranthine, Branna decided that their group should stop by the city's chantry. There were usually jobs to be found on the Chanter's Board **,** and the Maker knew that piles of coins would be needed to restore Vigil's Keep. When the group ascended the stairs to the small courtyard, however, the commander forgot about the board as she learned that her days truly were full of surprises **.**

”Wynne!” she called out while hurrying towards the robed woman standing outside the chantry.

”Oh!” the elderly mage gasped in surprise **,** ”it's so good to see you, my friend.”

”Hello, lady”, the dwarven warrior began to chuckle before Branna could say anything, ”you remember me too, don't you?”

”Uh... yes, Oghren. It’s nice to see you too.”

”Haven't forgotten about our time together, have you?”

”There's nothing to remember”, Wynne scoffed disapprovingly.

”But I clearly remember...!” the dwarf’s protest subsided surprisingly quickly, ”oh well, just tell me you missed me.”

                      Oghren's words were disregarded with yet another scoff while Anders chuckled quietly at the dwarf's right side. Refusing to let the other mage’s amusement affect her, Wynne composed herself and turned to speak to Branna again.

”I intended to visit you in Vigil's Keep, but things... got busy”, the mage sighed.

”I guess there's much to do to restore the tower, isn't there?” the commander perceived.

”Yes, there is, but that's not why I'm here.”

”Is this something I can help you with?”

”Actually - yes”, Wynne said after giving the matter further thought, ”I realise that you must have your hands full of work, but... The Circle of Magi is convening in Cumberland and I must attend. We are, however, one member short. Ines has spent the last few months in the Wending Wood, and the Circle has been unable to reach her. I must prepare for my journey to Nevarra and thus I have no time to look for her myself, but if you happen to find her, please inform her about the meeting.”

”Of course I'll help you”, Branna agreed to help straight away, ”there's some trouble in the Wending Wood so we'll probably travel there to investigate anyway.”

”As good-hearted and eager to help as ever”, Wynne smiled, ”thank you.”

”Don't mention it.”

 

After an hour or so, the two friends parted ways. It had gladdened Branna’s heart to meet Wynne again. It had made her feel as if they were still travelling around to Ferelden to save the country from the Blight. Even if those days were filled with danger and death, she missed them because back then she had felt that she had a family again. She was still among the Wardens **,** yes, but she wasn’t ”one of the boys” anymore as Alistair would have put it **.** She was a matriarch of a sort with the responsibility to protect her own.

 

_*sigh*_

 

Sometimes Branna Cousland hoped she wouldn't have listened to the advice Wynne had given her **.** In those moments, she hoped not to be so… alone. 


	3. Feravel Plains

 

The setting sun painted the sky with shades of red and amber. The Pilgrim’s Path appeared desolate save for the three travellers who were nearing the North Road. Branna and Oghren were accustomed to travelling long distances by foot, and apparently, Anders was too. Perhaps it was due to his several escapes from the Circle Tower, but Branna didn’t know for sure for she wasn’t one to ask questions. From her very first moments as Duncan's recruit **,** she had learned that the Wardens welcomed anyone to their ranks regardless of background, and who was she to judge? She had accepted the help of an apostate, an assassin, and other kinds of outcasts during the Blight. Why should it change now? Besides, they had proven to be...

 

_What was that?_

A whistling sound made the travellers look up to the sky. Realising to be staring at the glistening tips of countless arrows, the three took shelter under the ethereal shield Anders created above them **.** After the deadly rain vanished, eight warriors charged towards them from the direction of the nearby barley fields while two archers stayed behind. Dodging a second rain incoming arrows, Branna drew her daggers and followed Oghren who was already charging towards the attackers. When she faced her first opponent, she realised that he was no common bandit. The man had a noble coat of arms painted on his pauldrons. This wasn't a random attack on passers-by; this was a _planned_ attack.

                                            Despite being outnumbered, the rogue, mage, and the warrior stood their ground to show their adversaries that they wouldn’t go down so easily. Branna cut their main veins lethally with her daggers, Oghren crushed their skulls with his axe, and Anders chilled their veins with his icy spells. When the commander rushed towards yet another foe, aiming for the flaw she saw in his protection, a heavy maul hit her chest. She fell to the ground **,** gasping for breath between the occasional coughs of blood.

_Oh, seven hells..._

                      Branna’s opponent was about to finish her when Oghren attacked him, roaring like an enraged drake. Anders was kept busy by the other remaining attacker, and he was unaware of his commander’s distress. Branna tried to rise to her feet, but it made her chest hurt so badly that she didn't even manage to sit up.

_Archdemon's arse_ , she cursed while searching her surroundings with her hands, _where are my daggers?_

When the brute managed to fight the dwarven warrior off **,** and he quickly turned his focus to Branna again **.** The young Cousland grimaced wickedly at the man when she felt the hilt of a dagger beneath her right hand **.** If this was to be her end, so be it, but she wasn't going to meet the Maker without that bastard.

 

_Come on, you piece of shriek's shit._

That moment would truly have been the Warden-Commander's last if not for the arrow which pierced her threatener's head. Branna gasped painfully in surprise and stared at the falling man with her eyes wide. While Oghren got back to his feet, and Anders blew his adversary up with Walking Bomb, a third figure hurried to help the incredulous commander.

_Am I hallucinating?_ Branna wondered when her saviour kneeled beside her.

”Nathaniel?” she asked, her voice was raspy and her throat sore from coughing.

”I'm here, little raven”, Nathaniel used her old nickname, ”I'm terribly sorry that I didn't get here sooner.”

”It's alright”, her answer was accompanied by a short, painful laugh, “better now than never, right?” 

Realising that the commander was in great pain, Nathaniel turned to look at the fair-haired man who was rinsing blood off his robes.

”You there! Mage **.** Can you help her?”

When Anders glanced over his shoulder in question, he quickly realised that his skills as a healer were direly needed.

”I have a name too, you know”, he grumbled, ”and yes, I _can_ help her.”

                      The crossroads turned silent when the mage knelt beside his commander. As he hovered his right hand over her, blue light began to glow under his palm. Nathaniel and Oghren watched silently how the magical essence descended over Branna's chest to mend her broken ribs and flooding lungs. A serene feeling of relief soon took over the commander's body, and her breathing began to sound considerably easier. She stared at the dusky sky, and while the others waited for her to say something, she began to laugh instead.

”Keep at it, pal”, Oghren encouraged her, ”nothing better to keep death at bay than a hearty laugh and bottle of warm drink.”

”Oh, I don't know”, Anders jeered, ”healing magic can do that too.”

                      While the two wardens began to taunt one another, Nathaniel kept gazing at Branna whose hand he had held the whole time without even acknowledging it.

”What's so funny, commander?” he inquired with a relieved hum.

”I have faced werewolves, ogres, a broodmother… Maker, I have even sliced an archdemon in two, and for what? To nearly die in the hands of some man with a maul”, Branna explained, amused by the irony, ”I was lucky that you came along when you did.”

The archer smiled at her.

”You're welcome. Come, let's get you on your feet and return to the keep.”

Branna got briefly captivated by the sight of Nathaniel grey eyes when she took his hand. Though questions began to circle in her mind, she pulled herself together and tore her gaze forcefully away from the rogue as soon as she was standing again.

”Let's get back to the Vigil”, she told her companions, ”it seems that we have more work to do.” 

 

Due to a mild concussion **,** Branna’s mind was still in slight disarray. She hadn't even thought about asking whether Nathaniel wanted to come with them or not, but it seemed that there had been no need to ask. Branna glanced at the rogue who paced beside her, carrying himself rigidly like a disciplined soldier and fluently like a noble at the same time.

”Tell me”, she chatted, ”why were you even here? Weren't you supposed to leave the Vigil for good?”

”Now, little raven”, Nathaniel chuckled, ”didn't I warn you that I might come back?”

”I remember. I also remember that last time we met, I was just a murderer and a usurper to you. When I was lying at your feet just moments ago, however, you called me _commander_. Why is that?”

”I was rude to you when we last met, and I thought you might need some extra hands at the keep.”

Without any sign or warning, Branna stopped walking **.** She couldn't believe her ears – or at least her heart wasn't willing to hear nor understand what the rogue had just said.

”You want to help... rebuild?” she asked gingerly.

”Yes”, Nathaniel confirmed, ”is there something wrong with that?”

**”** No - no, of course not. I just...”

Branna failed to choose the correct words, and they were replaced by an awkward silence.

”Aw”, Anders seized the opportunity to tease his superior, ”I sense a secret crush.”

”Shut up”, the commander sizzled and glanced murderously at the mage before turning to face Nathaniel in embarrassment, ”you're not going to... join the Wardens, are you?”

”I am”, the Howe stated straight away, ”if the esteemed commander will have me.”

Branna's face turned pale **.** She had feared to hear that answer **.**

”No, she won't.”

Nathaniel stared at Branna with surprise and confusion shaping the features of his face **.** Anders and Oghren didn’t understand her decision either.

”Commander”, the latter stepped forth, ”you once told me that the Wardens took whatever help they could get, and if I'm not a living proof of that then I don’t know who is.”

”I know, Oghren”, Branna said without detaching her gaze from Nathaniel's.

”Then shouldn't you....?”

”No. Would you please leave us? Both of you?”

                      Unable to follow their commander's current train of thought, the two wardens shrugged in puzzlement before turning towards Vigil's Keep again. Branna's disapproving gaze followed them like a shadow werewolf.

” _Faster_!” she ordered sharply **,** giving the dwarf and the mage a reason to fasten their pace and keep moving.

While she watched them go, a pair of grey eyes stared at her in turn.

”Branna”, Nathaniel began, his low voice full of disbelief, ”I don't understand...”

”You already accused me of the unfortunate situation of your family”, the young Cousland said with her voice softening as she finally turned to look at him, ”don't make me ruin your future as well.”

”What is there to ruin? I've no home to return to **.** Let me have a purpose, let me help.”

”No.”

                      Branna tried to end the conversation by turning around again, but a strong hand stopped her. Nathaniel held her right arm tightly **,** unwilling to let her go.

”For every iniquity my father did, let me make them up to you with my life”, Nathaniel’s tone suggested that he wouldn’t take another ”no” for an answer.

Branna felt as if her heart stopped beating when she raised her gaze to meet his.

”You don't know what you're asking, Nathaniel”, the velvet of her voice was broken by a tearful tone, ”to join the Wardens is like signing your own death warrant **.”**

”Then why are you one?”

”It wasn't my choice!” the commander cried out, ”I left my parents to die that night at the castle. Duncan saved me so I owed him my life.”

                      The jade green glow in Branna’s eyes dimmed when the suppressed pain within her surfaced as frustration. Nathaniel reached out and brushed her cheek gently with his thumb **.**

”Being one of us means that you'll never have what others have”, she sobbed, ”you'll lead a lonely life until you die in battle or disappear into the Deep Roads. The Wardens are protectors, we have a duty to keep this world safe. There can be no distractions.”

”Shh”, Nathaniel hushed her, wiping away her tears, ”who told you such things, little raven?”

”It doesn't matter”, Branna said **,** feeling bitter about her fate for the first time since leaving Highever.

”It matters to me. Let me help you.”

 

_Resist..._

No matter how hard she tried, the commander felt how the wall she had built around her began to crack **.** It had been able to stand against any emotion, but this was different. The dreams of a little girl fought their way through the grown woman's mind. Branna had craved nothing but Nathaniel's attention back then, and now he was offering to help her. It felt like a tiny chip of everything she had once wished for was within her grasp right now, and that made her break.

That was how the Commander of the Grey gave up - more easily than she would ever have thought.


	4. The commander's last stand

The great hall of Vigil's Keep had quieted down for the night. Whenever moonlight found its way into the hall, it made a lone figure's hair glisten like onyxes **.** Branna walked through the silence, maintaining a perfect posture as if she was inspecting the troops before battle. Today had been the day of Nathaniel's Joining, and her heart had beaten madly throughout the whole ceremony. She had abundantly thanked the Maker in her mind when he had survived, but it hadn't set her mind at ease. Her sense of duty scorned her for feeling so relieved and joyous. It knew that there was a secret buried beneath them. It had found the truth, and now, it refused to leave her be.

 

Moments passed slowly by **.** Delicate fingers swept the leathery backs of the books placed on a shelf near the keep's main door. They stopped by a book covered with dark brown leather and drew it out of the shelf.

 _The Legend of Calenhad_ , Branna thought and began to leaf through the yellowed pages. _Love and witchcraft began his downfall. I just wonder..._

”...will the same happen to me?” she finished her sentence out loud.

”What will happen to you?”

                      Branna's heart missed a beat as she slammed the book shut and turned around. She quickly distinguished familiar features from amidst the dim light, but that only made her feel tenser.

”Nathaniel”, she gasped in surprise. ”Maker, you scared me.”

”I'm sorry”, the rogue apologized and took a step forward. ”What are you reading?”

Branna handed over the book to him and breathed deeply to calm her tone before she spoke.

”The Legend of Calenhad.”

”Good choice, it was one of my favourite stories as a child.”

”It is a fascinating tale”, the commander admitted awkwardly and smiled.

 _Let's just leave it at that **,** shall we? _ she pleaded hopefully in her mind **.**

Unfortunately for her, that wasn’t going to happen.

”Are you afraid that you might share a similar fate with him?”

 

_Blast it._

Silence conquered the hall once again. Branna lowered her gaze and began to follow the patterns of the carpet she stood on. She hoped to gain more time to fabricate an explanation, but her unwillingness to talk told Nathaniel more than enough **.**

”It's normal for anyone to have emotions and feelings, little raven”, he reminded her. ”There's nothing wrong with them **.”**

Branna lifted her head slightly, but she refused to look at the rogue. How in the Maker's name could he know what she was thinking?

”No need to be surprised”, Nathaniel told her. ”I didn't spend my time chasing skirts and drinking wine while I was in the Free Marches.”

”What – just... _Ugh._ Stop reading my mind!”

                      While the young Cousland blew off some steam, Nathaniel placed the book calmly back on the shelf. Shadows swept over his face like a wave of ink when he turned to look at her.

”Have you been thinking about the past?” his question took Branna by surprise.

Panic tried to take her away from his reach, but her feet refused to obey her.

”This is about what Anders said, isn't it?” she demanded coldly. ”About me having a secret crush on you?”

”Was he wrong, then?”

With her pulse racing, Branna made her last attempt to resist the faint, enthusiastic gleam in the Howe's grey eyes.

”I had a crush on you as a kid”, she confessed truthfully. ”But those were only dreams of a foolish girl who was way over her head back then.”

”Had things gone differently, those dreams might be true.”

                      A rosy blush spread all over the commander's cheeks **.** She swallowed nervously while she stared at the man before her **.** She wasn't sure what she should say or do. She felt like she had butterflies in her stomach, but at the same time her irritation rose ever higher, and the latter finally won.

”Why do you even care?” Branna snapped at the rogue. ”You’re the one who wanted to murder me a week ago.”

Nathaniel seemed embarrassed for a moment, but he composed himself much more quickly than she had done.

”I regretted it the moment I saw you”, he told her, ”I was angry, I admit it, but I would never...”

”Never what? Shoot an arrow to my head?”

”Stop that.”

”Oh, so mister pariah doesn't want to admit it that he wanted me dead? Look, some of my best friends have wanted me dead, but you, my dear sir, are just a hypocrite.”

 _”Shut up_.”

The last warning came out as a low growl, but it didn't seem to affect Branna in any way. She just kept hurling insults and accusations at the Howe whose patience soon ran to an end. He grabbed her by the hair and drew her roughly to himself. He crushed his lips against hers – no permissions asked, no objections heard. Branna got so surprised that she could do nothing but melt into his arms. When their unintended, passionate kiss came to an end, they stared at each other eyes wide, both of them breathing heavily. That was when an unfulfilled need for closeness quieted Branna's reason, and she threw herself at Nathaniel as if to test what would happen **.** She kissed him with her ardour growing like a tiny flame which had gotten in touch with a better source of oxygen. She was hungry, but the rogue wasn't willing to yield as mere prey for his lips devoured hers as eagerly. With her head humming out of bliss, the commander slowed her moves, and eventually she stopped to pant against Nathaniel's skin. Their lips met briefly one time after another before their eyes met again and voice of reason awakened within Branna's mind.

_This is wrong._

The moment’s atmosphere changed **.** Nathaniel watched in puzzlement how the commander’s lips began to shiver.

”I'm sorry”, she whispered, flustered by the warm feeling unravelling inside her.

”What are you apologizing for, little raven?” Nathaniel asked softly.

”My reaction was rash and inappropriate”, she replied with her remnants of reason. ”I shouldn't have acted so irresponsibly.”

Nathaniel couldn't help chuckling incredulously.

”This again? Believe me when I say that there's nothing to be ashamed of **.** Besides, I kissed you first, didn't I?”

”You did, but...”

”Then there's nothing to add”, the rogue smiled at his commander and placed his palm on her left cheek.

Branna placed her own palm over his. She refused to lift her gaze from the floor at first, but when she did, she also took a step away from Nathaniel. The burning sensation within her was becoming too much for her to bear.

”I cannot... do this”, words dropped from her lips with difficulty. ”It'll only hurt you.”

”Branna”, Nathaniel tried to reach for her, but she was already heading towards her quarters.

” _I'm sorry_.”

 

***

 

The old, wooden door was closed so harshly that one of its hinges nearly got loose **.** Branna’s body felt numb, and her heart kept pounding rapidly. She felt frustrated, embarrassed... and yet there was a new feeling blossoming amidst others **,** and it nearly drove her mad.

 _Don't give in now,_ she reminded herself of the rule she had cherished during the Blight.

The feeling inside her, however, was stronger.

_He likes you. Don't ruin it now! He's strong, handsome, and a good man – you know that._

                      Branna tried to fight the truth, but it didn’t take long before it overwhelmed her. She wanted to shout, no matter if it would wake up the whole keep. She had denied herself of engaging in romantic relationships, even short ones. This time it just seemed that her treacherous mind had finally bested her self-control. Maker have mercy, Branna had a crush on Nathaniel – _again._ Whenever his name passed her thoughts, she felt ridiculously fuzzy inside. The mere sight of him was enough to lift her up to her toes.

 

_*sigh*_

As the Commander of the Grey sank helplessly to her knees, a small smile lifted the corners of her mouth. She knew this was a fight she couldn't win, lest she went completely insane. Thus, she leant backwards, let herself lapse to the floor, and surrendered.


	5. Familiar halls

”Be careful, commander”, Varen said before he left Branna alone in her room.

After hearing of what had happened near the Feravel Plains a few days earlier, the seneschal had insisted that he would have her permission to investigate the matter **.** As a result, he had found out that there were malcontents who had been loyal to the late Arl of Amaranthine. He had suggested that, if she wished to preserve peace in the arling, Branna should search for a character called ”the Dark Wolf” the next time she visited Amaranthine. It seemed that there would be no rest for the commander in the nearby future, but she would make good use of the time she would remain in Vigil's Keep.

 

There was an apology to deliver, after all.

 

***

 

Lunch had been served an hour ago, and servants arrived to take away the leftovers and clean the tables. The throne room wasn't so silent as it had been just a moment before. Oghren was already opening the tap of a large cask to fill his mug, and Anders was reading a book while the kitten Branna had given him as a gift tried to catch the pages as he turned them. Nathaniel, on the other hand, was admiring a painting when the commander found him. She had seen him sitting at the table **,** and he had caught her looking at him in secret like a shy girl, but they hadn't talked to each other **.** Seeing her opportunity to speak with him now **,** she didn't want to miss it. The young Cousland had to take a deep breath as if she was about to face an ogre, but she approached Nathaniel step by step. The seneschal and lieutenant Gable watched her with mild disapproval from a distance, but their opinions didn’t matter. The commander didn’t stop until she stood at the rogue's right side, and they stared at the painting in silence without even looking at each other before a low voice finally broke the silence.

”Funny”, Nathaniel pondered. ”Considering all the things that have been taken, it figures this would still be here.”

Branna didn’t know for sure who the woman in the painting was, but she had a hunch.

”I don't remember your mother visiting Highever with the rest of your family”, she said. ”This is her portrait, isn't it?”

A smile crept over Nathaniel's lips, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared.

”Yes”, he admitted. ”It's her.”

”You were allowed to take anything you wanted from the keep when I set you free. Why didn't you take this painting?”

Nathaniel grunted silently and glanced down at a small crack in the wall.

”Actually, I think it would be better if someone took it down. My parents used to argue often to the point where my father began to _hate_ my mother”, he explained. ”I'd rather not try to remember that time.”

                      Compassion climbed up Branna’s body until it found its way into her heart and settled there. Her parents had argued sometimes, of course, but they had never gotten so far that they would hate each other for it.

”I'm sorry to hear that”, she whispered, bowing her head sadly.

”Don't be”, Nathaniel finally turned to look at her. ”In fact, I think I should apologize to you.”

The commander glanced at him and cocked her head in question.

”For what?”

”For what my father did. I met my sister in Amaranthine after you set me free. The things she told about our father... I still can't believe what he became.”

”You don't have to _..._ Wait. _What did you say?”_

It didn't take long for Nathaniel to perceive what made Branna react in the way she had.

 _”_ You met Delilah too, didn’t you?” his question sounded more like a statement.

”I did!” the young Cousland exclaimed. ”She didn't mention that you had stopped by.”

”Hm, perhaps I still have one family member left who I can trust”, the rogue hummed partly to himself, leaving Branna perplexed.

What wasn’t he telling her?

”I made my sister swear that she wouldn't mention me to anyone”, Nathaniel continued as he realised that he owed her an explanation. ”Not even the Warden-Commander. The things she told me about our father, how _he_ was the one to cause the downfall of our house instead of the Wardens... I decided to return here and make amends the best I could - to make things up to you.”

 _Well, that surely explains_ _most of it_ , Branna reasoned with herself. _But..._

”But why the secrecy?”

That question allowed her to see a smirk on Nathaniel's face for the first time after they had met in the keep's dungeon.

”My return wouldn't have been a surprise otherwise.”

 

_Oh, for the love of... **Damn him.**_

****

The commander scolded the Wardens' newest recruit playfully for keeping secrets from her before he offered her his arm to lead her to the keep's second level **.** The upper hallways were lighted modest chandeliers **.** Faint strands of smoke entwined as they travelled towards the open skylight windows. The two wardens didn't seem to have any particular destination, but Branna held Nathaniel's arm tightly as they walked slowly past yet another door.

”That door used to lead to the trophy room”, a gravelly voice broke the silence which had shrouded them till now. ”I spent a lot of time there as a child, wondering whether I would ever be the kind of hero my father was during the Fereldan Rebellion.”

There was an uneasy tone in Nathaniel's voice when he talked about his father. Branna noticed it, and pity awoke within her.

”You admired your father”, she spoke softly. ”There's nothing wrong with that. Every child needs a role model.”

”Even as rotten as him?” the rogue asked bitterly.

That was when Branna stopped and turned to look at him adamantly.

”Whatever Rendon Howe may have been, you're nothing like him”, she told him. ”You're a good man, Nathaniel.”

”Huh, you really think so?”

”I do. You're reasonable, righteous... and the looks! You're the kind of man all women dream of.”

                      The bait was obvious and somewhat exaggerative, but it lured the bear out of hiding. Branna's eyes sparkled with pure admiration when she gazed at the man before her. Nathaniel shifted his weight to his right foot as he freed his arm from her grasp.

”Women like you?” he suggested, taking the hint **.**

”Yes”, the commander blushed a little. ”Such as I.”

The rogue reached for her loose, black hair and ran his finger through it.

”You're an ambivalent woman, little raven. First, you do your best to turn me down, but now you're practically throwing yourself at me. Perhaps it should be my turn to reject you?”

Branna felt the hit her courage took, but she refused to yield.

”I hope not”, she said, hiding her hands behind her back.

”Well then, I guess I should consider your suggestion”, Nathaniel contemplated, keeping his chin proudly lifted while he looked at her.

 ”I didn't suggest anything”, she answered his gaze endearingly. ”I came to tell you that you were right.”

”I was?”

”Yes”, a light kiss landed on a stubble-covered cheek. ”There's nothing wrong with emotions. I like you, Nathaniel Howe.”

 

_There. It's said._

Branna's confession stemmed from the words that had put down roots in her mind when she was just a little girl. She stood in front of Nathaniel as if she had frozen solid. The air began to feel strangely humid around them– or maybe it was just her. The two grey eyes carved their way beneath her skin as if to learn whether she had spoken the truth or not. After a short, torturing moment of silence, the gaze in Nathaniel’s eyes turned softer.

”Perhaps we should seize the opportunity and see where it might lead?” he suggested with a smile and pressed his rough hand on Branna’s left cheek.

The commander felt how something stirred within her, something she hadn’t quite felt before.

”That is an excellent suggestion, recruit”, she cooed. “You have my permission to proceed.” 

Nathaniel gave a laugh while he brought his lips closer to hers.

”As my commander wishes.”


	6. They run deep beneath the surface

There was no rest for the ones in charge, it seemed. The Warden-Commander had worked hard to preserve peace in her arling. She had travelled to its capital in the hope of learning the truth about the attempt on her life **.** There she had met a shady character, an elf judging by his height and build **,** who turned out to be the one Varen had advised her to seek out. The man's services hadn't been exactly cheap, but the demanded fifty sovereigns would be an acceptable price to pay for the identities of the conspirators. With the wolf sent after its prey, so to speak, the commander had travelled to the Forlorn Cove to rescue the daughter of Ser Edgar Bensley. After that, she was finally free to turn her focus on Knotwood Hills **.** Hopefully **,** searching the area would provide some clues on the strange, organized behaviour of the darkspawn. Luckily, Branna didn't need to do all the hard work alone, and when she found even the tiniest moment of spare time, she spent it with Nathaniel. As they got to know each other better, she grew more certain that her decision to let go of old morals had been one of the best decisions she had ever made. Not even the renowned Commander of the Grey could think that she was above any emotion, after all **.**

For better or for worse, Branna Cousland was falling in love — rapidly.

 

***

 

The Knotwood Hills were among the harshest landscapes in Amaranthine, and the view didn't get much better near the chasm which revealed a tunnel leading under the ground. The stench of the darkspawn was strong, and the entrance was as inviting as a giant maw of an unknown beast waiting to devour anyone foolish enough to enter it **.** The Warden-Commander glanced down only briefly before she gave her group an order to advance **.** She had explored the Deep Roads before and Maker curse her if she began fearing them now. Oghren was not intimidated by the sight either, given his race and background. As for Nathaniel and Anders, it was a different story. Both appeared hesitant while they stared at the dreary bottom of the chasm. Healthy suspicion was understandable, even commendable, but the Deep Roads were their destination, and there was no place for fear. 

“It's intimidating, I know”, the commander encouraged her comrades. “Those tunnels are full of creatures who can sense us, but we can sense _them_ as well. If we don't stop them, they'll remain a threat to all the people in the arling, inhabitants and travellers alike.”

“It was my family's duty to protect this land and its people once”, Nathaniel turned to look at her. “I'll follow you.”

Anders stayed silent a bit longer, but when he eventually raised his gaze again, there was a determinate look in his eyes.

“I'm in”, he stated. “I'd rather solve this problem now than wake up in my bed with a genlock next to me.”

“Not even if it was a pretty one?” Branna jested as a payback for all the jokes the mage had played on her recently.

“Let me think about it. Umm... No. I prefer my cat, thank you.”

Anders' words were followed by Branna's laugh which was followed by that of Nathaniel's but not Oghren’s.

“Hey”, the dwarf called out, about to descend the stairs leading down. “You guys coming or what?”

“Of course we're coming, Oghren”, Branna replied, still chuckling. “Let's go kick some darkspawn ass, shall we?”

“Ha! Now that's what I like to hear. Just like old times!”

“I couldn't have said it better myself”, the commander smiled. “Lead the way.”

 

***

 

The expedition didn't get even started properly when the wardens ran into a group of hurlocks dragging a member of the Legion of the Dead with them. The dwarf managed to escape her capturers and made a stand against them **.** With Branna and others rushing to her aid, the hurlocks were quickly vanquished. The Legionnaire, Sigrun, was most grateful for the group’s help. It turned out that she probably was the only survivor of a battalion sent to investigate the ancient dwarven fortress of Kal'Hirol, and she would see the mission complete or die trying. Since Branna and others were going to press forward anyway, they offered the lone Legionnaire their help — much to Oghren's delight.

 

An abandoned thaig sounded like just the place where they’d find the answers they had come to look for.

 

***

 

The sight was incredible **.** The buildings and statues of Kal’Hirol had endured time the way any dwarven structure should, and there was an underground river flowing through the thaig. The group of wardens pressed forward with their newest ally **,** facing yet another unknown kind of darkspawn and ghastly reprises of forgotten battles. Branna, Oghren, and Sigrun walked through the city's gloomy halls with confidence, but just as before, the inexperience of Nathaniel and Anders stuck out. Leaving the lead position for the two dwarves for a while, the Warden-Commander moved to walk beside Nathaniel.

“How are you holding up?” she asked, touching his back comfortingly.

“It's... different down here”, the rogue admitted while gazing around warily.

“What did you expect? Nice furniture and parties?” the mage poked fun at his fellow warden, earning a scolding glance from his commander.

“Now, play nice Anders “, she chided him. “It's understandable that the Deep Roads can keep you on your toes the first time you enter them.”

“Oh, I'm fine”, the mage said though his demeanour told otherwise. “Maybe you should tell that to your boyfriend.”

                      Nathaniel glanced at Anders with scorn, but he didn't say anything. Though he was seemingly disturbed by the new environment he found himself in, he was brave enough to admit it. Branna watched how the mage increased his pace to reach Oghren and Sigrun to chat with them instead.

_He’ll come in terms with it eventually_ , she thought and turned her gaze to Nathaniel.

“I was like that the first time I visited Orzammar”, she told him. “I guess we're the same with the dwarves that way.”

“What do you mean?” the rogue inquired.

“You should have seen Oghren when he left his home”, Branna hummed. “He had never been to the surface before, and he thought that the sky would fall on him if he turned to look elsewhere.”

“Really?” Nathaniel chuckled and glanced at the warrior who was now needling Anders about his robes.

“I imagine that all ‘real’ dwarves would behave like that. The wardens who enter the Deep Roads for the first time, on the other hand, usually fear they won't see the sky again.”

“It does feel like that a little. At least this place isn't completely dark.”

“That's a start, isn't it?”

Nathaniel gave a laugh and looked at Branna with softness in his grey eyes.

“That it is.”

 

***

 

The group's journey through Kal'Hirol wasn’t complete, but it had already proved to be an enlightening experience. They had uncovered the truth about the last moments of the thaig before it fell to the darkspawn **.** It also seemed that there were two tribes of darkspawn warring with each other. From her experience, Branna found it hard to believe, but she couldn't ignore what she had heard and seen. This was a matter the Wardens should investigate, but it had to wait until she would get out of the thaig alive with the others. The talking darkspawn mage and his inferno golem they had just encountered had been pretty persistent in their efforts to prevent that.

“Well, that's what I'd call a fight”, Oghren stated excitedly while the group entered yet another corridor.

“So, you like being nearly squashed by a living metal construct that is over ten times as tall as you?” Anders asked.

“There's no fun in squashing your opponents like bugs. There has to be some challenge to the fight to make things more interesting.”

“'Interesting'?” Sigrun noted. “I thought you were the type who enjoys smashing things.”

“You know what I'd like to smash?”

“I'm going to regret asking, aren't I?”

Oghren snickered allusively.

“Let's go around the corner so I can show you...”

“ _Ugh_.”

 

Branna, who walked behind the two dwarves, suppressed a chuckle **.** Oghren was still his old self indeed, flirting shamelessly with nearly every woman he encountered. That, however, also produced questions. What about him and Felsi? They had a son, didn't they? He had seemed genuinely happy. What had caused Oghren to return to his old habits? Perhaps Branna should talk to him, not as a commander but as a friend. She knew Oghren wasn't the kind to talk about his problems willingly, so he’d probably need a little push. She should remember to find some time to do that once they returned to Vigil's Keep — among other things.   

                      While the dark-haired Cousland pondered upon all the matters that needed her attention, Nathaniel nudged her arm. She flinched, but seeing his face quickly brought a bright smile on hers.

“So, what are we going to do when we get out of here?” the rogue mused.

“I don't know”, Branna shrugged. “We should probably investigate the Black Marsh and search for Kristoff.”

“More Grey Warden things for us, huh?”

“Well, I could come up with a few things only for _us_ , if I tried.”

“Maybe I should help you plan, then?” Nathaniel chuckled, earning a smirk from his commander.

“Maybe, or you could come and check if there happened to be any darkspawn under my bed”, she told him, surprising him with her shameless sweet talk.

“Cold nights, eh?”

“And lonely I'd say.”

 

While the pair's conversation was about to take a rather suggestive turn, the ground began to shake. The group's members leant against the corridor's walls to try to maintain their balance. An ominous feeling took over the Warden-Commander, for she remembered the last time she had experienced something like this.

_Not again..._

“What's happening?” Anders' cry echoed among the rumble.

“This is not the time for answers”, Branna replied hastily as she tore herself away from the wall. “Run!”

                      It didn't take long for the commander's fears to come true. A swarm of giant tentacles protruded from the ground, trying to swoop down upon anyone who ran past them **.** As soon as the group escaped the corridor, however, the attacks stopped. Branna, Oghren, and Sigrun knew that their strange attackers hadn't vanished anywhere **,** but they took their time to catch their breath with the others.

“Maker”, Nathaniel panted. “ _What were those things_?”

Hearing a familiar squeal emanating from a large pit nearby, Branna frowned and moved closer to its edge.

“Broodmothers”, she murmured.

“Yet another kind of darkspawn?” Anders snorted, seemingly fed up with the whole place.

“And the reason why those creatures take women”, Sigrun explained quietly **.**  

“To... feed them?” Nathaniel asked and moved to glance down at the pit where the three enormous creatures lied **.**

“No”, Branna replied on the Legionnaire’s behalf. “To turn their victims _into_ them, to breed.”

“And that's something we can't have”, Oghren cracked his knuckles with enthusiasm when the ground began to shake again. “Right, commander?”

“I couldn’t agree more”, the young Cousland said with her gaze following one of the chains holding up a massive container above the pit. “Let's give them something too hard to chew, shall we?”


End file.
